Heyo! SONGLYRICS just got interactive. Highlight. Review: RIFF-it. RIFF-it good.
Overcome some days with a shadow o' doubt
I walk around in the graveyard so hollow and down
As I follow the sound o' the ones I lost - the ones not here
I feel so ‘Divorced' and lost - cuz' I ‘Miss'
Every single one o' ya'll
And every year my resolution is to ball harder than Coach Carter and every one of his Daughters - I do it for them I do it for you I do it for me
People wanna see how I'm ‘smooth' with the beats
Got a boulder on my shoulder - I don't do it with ease
I forgot all my manners I don't do it to please
‘Uhaul' for Einstein how I ‘move MC's'
Mama told me I'm a fighter -
I guess that's why I'm ‘punchin' everytime that I'm writin - strike it
Merriweather leave a dent with a pencil
This beat's for the haters - they are ‘instrumental'
Monster - how should I feel
Creatures Lie Here
Looking through the window
For my girl - you remember that night?
It's funny how we ‘fall' like ‘November in a fight'
You remember who was right? I was wrong
It's funny how I admit it now when you're gone
And to my boy Nic man I'm sorry for the fall out
I can't forget them times at the beach we would straight ball out
And tell people we were cousins - but really you my brother
Actin like ‘cops' gettin ladies ‘under covers'
Drivin mothers and they sisters so crazy
Like: "have you seen their fuckin boyfriends lately?"
Askin' where they daughters at wonder why they skippin class
Why they with his broke ass now they callin' him their baby?
God damn how I miss you dude
I know you up in heaven right now missin' me too
So pour that goose hope you feelin at peace
Fuck that ‘monster' in my room ‘cuz I feel like a beast
I mean how show I feel man
If you saw what I saw everyday
I mean don't even know why I do it sometimes
But fuck it
I'm tired o' payin these promters
Who tell me to play when the pay is bogus
There's no way to focus on what matters most:
Entertainin' the crowd and attackin shows
When you tryna rap out with ya back exposed
When they pocket all the profit and ‘G's'
Promotional needs to studio fees
It's like they're holdin' the keys - they got a hold o' the knees
To my city man fuck that wear it's on
You wanna ‘run my town'? Get a number in the marathon
From now on
I swear that I'm ‘wearin bombs'
And I'ma ‘blow' on any motherfucka tellin me to "pay to play"
When my budget is none - why the fuck you think I'm back to sellin drugs and bud - huh
Cuz' ‘Love' wont pay to drop a rhyme in the Club
When my pen run outta ink I'ma sign that shit in bloood